


Punishment

by yandeerly



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Yandere, forced blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 23:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16128599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yandeerly/pseuds/yandeerly
Summary: The collapse comes early and everyone nearby is forced into Jacob’s bunker. John is overjoyed to have been herded into the enclosed space along with the deputy, but will things go as he planned?





	Punishment

John the Baptist, reaper of souls and incredibly crafty man, leant back in a rickety folding chair. The slightest of toothy grins spread wide across his features as he stretched his arms behind his back with satisfaction. He’d been tracking his dear sweet deputy through the Whitetail Mountains, far from his home and duties in the valley. It was just pure luck when he’d witnessed Jacob’s hunters capturing her with a well aimed bliss arrow, hauling the disoriented resistance leader into a waiting truck, and even luckier when the inevitable collapse rained down from the sky, plunging the world into a fiery explosion of rebirthing flame. They’d screeched to a halt and rerouted towards the bunker, entirely unaware the dark headed herald trailed behind cautiously in an ATV with the headlights switched off.

Now, here he sat, in his new designated bedroom to await the Earth’s holy transformation. He’d spend every waking moment convincing his precious Rook to join hands and walk through Eden’s Gate together and, this time, there was nowhere for her to run. He’d reach forth with cleansing palms, take hold of her vengeful spirit, and rip it straight from her body if it was the last thing he ever did. Her sins would bare only to him before he cast them aside and brought her up anew as a beautiful bride in paradise.

The very notion sent chills of excitement tracking down his spine and he could barely hold still in his seat. Wild, sky blue eyes flickered to the dresser where he’d stored his favored tattoo gun the moment he’d arrived. Of course, he wasn’t going to leave the most important tool to his mission behind and, as a sickeningly wonderful idea formed in his head, he became beside himself with utter glee. 

Rising from the chair, his grin stretched ever wider, and he crossed the metal flooring with several clacks from designer dress shoes. Hands trembling in anticipation, he slid open the top drawer and peered down at the needle tipped object inside. It sat so carefully in a velvet lined box and he scooped it up lovingly, fingers turning it around and around in his vision. Still honed to a razor sharp tip, the machine remained poised to carve magnificent, scrawling letters into delicate flesh. Except, this time, they would not resemble that of Rook’s deepest sins. They would spell out a message, a clear reminder for all to see. He would give her the mark of his name, a prized gift really, one she should appreciate for an eternity to come. The screams that would echo from her lips would be _liberating_ , freeing her soul from its burdening, sin filled shackles and only then could they join together in Eden!

The patience he grasped so loosely was wearing thin. The sooner she was cleansed, the better and, fortunately, her room was positioned just next to his, a situation he made sure to bring to fruition. Only a couple steps lay between their future and he crossed them with a rushed, unsteady pace. Normally, the suave man would do everything in his power to maintain a cool and charming exterior, but the playing field had been downsized… _drastically_. There was no need to hide any longer. She’d accept him just as he was deep down inside.

Nearing Rook’s bedroom door - or at least the spot he’d watched Jacob drag her kicking and screaming body into - he was surprised to find it cracked open slightly. A soft beam of light filtered through, casting along the outside iron walls of the bunker. Curiously, he tipped his head to the side and drew closer yet. 

 _Had she escaped?_ Well, no matter. There wasn’t very far to run and he’d capture her in a blinding instant, if that were the case. However, gradual and muffled noises began to drift into his listening ears. Strange sounding grunts followed along with higher pitched mewls, a neediness and desperation scratching in the tone.

He stretched his neck around the edge, peering into the room in bewilderment, only to have his heart suddenly shatter like a fragile porcelain doll dropped on its head. The horrific sight that filled his gaping eyes was more than any halfway broken man could handle and he gently pressed a shivering palm over his pounding chest.

There sat Rook, poised on the end of her mattress. His ginger haired brother stood just to the side of her, cargo jeans pooled at his ankles and cock shoved deep inside her open mouth. His head lolled back, lids pressed shut, and lips parted ever so slightly as she worked him with measured bobs. Gruff hands twisted in her locks, keeping all of him inside her, and she appeared to be _enjoying_ it! Every stroke, every groan, every tug against her hair, every bit of the lustful deed she performed.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Jacob muttered praises, the one free hand gliding down her back in soft, encouraging caresses. “Take all of it and I might reconsider stickin’ yah next to my brother, John.”

_What?_

The aforementioned herald staggered backwards, a dizzying rush bowling over him. All of his surroundings seemed to spin in rushing circles, colors of gray and rust red swirling together in a sickening blur. His heart was breaking, snapping like the necks of sinners he so often stomped into the dirt. What had he done wrong? He gave _everything!_ **Everything!**

 _No._ No, it was still ok. He could still convince her. The love he held still knew no boundaries and he had decided to carry it for her and, by God, she was going to receive it. He just had to wait, wait for his deceitful brother to finish defiling his blessed angel.

It was agonizing. Each and every second brought pain howling in his bones, but he was keeping count. Measuring her sins for atonement. He was doing this for _her_ , all for her benefit. She’d sing nothing but complete praise and thanks for him later, he was sure of it.

Moments later, the putrid, nauseating tenor of befoulment died down and the shuffling of fabric sounded. The door creaked aside with a sudden force and Jacob stepped out into the hall. John watched with a snake-like glare, realizing he hadn’t even bothered to zip up his fly. How uncouth, the Baptist thought with a snarl.

Jacob’s glittering, but guilt ridden, eyes flashed from side to side, passing right over where John hid in the shadows. He didn’t even notice, too absorbed in a flurry of whatever filthy thoughts rotted in his brain. A calloused palm flew to his mouth, attempting to suppress the tiniest of grins, a genuine one, before the soldier turned to make his way down the hall. It left John awash in a quiet, simmering rage, boiling beneath his reddened skin.

Jacob would have to pay for that, but it was work for another time. There was an even dirtier sinner lurking only a foot away.

Slinking forward with the silence of a cougar on the hunt, he gripped his tattoo gun firmly behind his back and entered through the still open entrance. Inside, Rook had fallen backwards on the mattress, limbs splayed out in all directions. Her arm pressed over her eyes, hidden underneath the crook of her elbow. 

_Of course she would be hiding her shame._

Slowly, he began to reach out a palm, but stopped midair, letting out a deep chuckle instead. Her head snapped up at the sudden outburst, eyes bulging straight out of the skull when they fell upon his shaking form.

“What a little snake you are, my Rook,” he continued to laugh, slapping a hand on his forehead as if the whole situation were just a hilarious joke to him now. “I hope you had fun with my brother.” The playful sounding words hissed between clenched teeth, an edge of ice flying off his tongue.

If possible, her gaze stretched even wider, the pupils shimmering with a mix of utter surprise and terror.

“J-John,” she stuttered out weakly, carefully watching as he paced in front of her. The anger and fury that rolled off him in thick waves was a grave reminder of just how wrathful this man could be and she’d experienced it once before in his shadowy dungeon of torture. “What you saw-”

“It’s alright!” He cut her off with a loud, boisterous laugh, one that sent tremors wracking his shoulders. A dangerous grin tugged at his pale lips as he spun towards the door, purpose in his stride. “Sin can be forgiven,” he mused lightly, gripping the metal knob so tightly his knuckles grew white. His words were barely audible as they brushed past his tongue. “That’s what I’m here for. _To absolve sin._ ” A wickedly dark expression befell his features as the entrance slammed shut, his thumb jamming the lock shut with such force it bent to the side with a scraping screech. “And, to show you my love, how it is boundless, never changing, and always beating for you.” He let a blissful sigh escape, the tensing of his muscles releasing lightly, gradually.

Rook’s heart slammed into her ribcage repeatedly, but not for the same reasons John’s did. Dread laced every strangled beat as she pressed as far back as she could into the wall. There was no escape. She was cornered in a locked cage with a maniacal, sorely disillusioned nutcase.

He whirled around to face the frightened woman, the façade of amusement no longer masking the pure fury raging on his features. Jaw locked tight in place, canines clenched fiercely, and fists shaking madly, he brought his fingertips up to the buttons of his silk, cerulean shirt. Rather unsteadily, he worked them loose one by one, footsteps approaching threateningly. When the last one came undone, he began tugging at the silver belt buckle wrapped around his waist.

“J-John,” the deputy whimpered lightly, a feeble demand weaved into the tone. It held no ground. “Please…please, stop.”

His haze filled glare descended upon her cowering figure as if a bird of prey snatching a delectable morsel from the ground, drawing a short squeak from her trembling lips. Placing a single finger to still them, he drawled out a warning to remain silent. Her eyes travelled down to his second hand, which came around from behind him, a cylindrical object gripped roughly in the palm. She knew exactly what it was and the clouded, stormy frown twisted downwards on his face alluded that his soul held no mercy within. He would not be kind.

“John, **please**.” Pools of tears dripped down her cheeks, flushing them a gentle scarlet. “I-I’m sorry!” she pleaded desperately, praying with all her might and what little faith may be swirling around, shoved deep in her gut. “I’m sorry! I really am!”

His fingertips trailed beneath her quivering chin, streaking salty wetness along with them, and tilted her head upwards. Their gazes met and he held fast with a silent desperation of his own. A hurt flickered beneath the surface of ocean blue eyes, drowning in a flurry of resentment and hate and sheer disgust.

Was it aimed at her…or himself?

A cat-like grin rose on his features, pleased with the reaction he’d pulled from her, and the ones he was about to.

“I know you are, dear. _I know you are._ ”

* * *

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